Easter

Easter is far and away the most important religious holiday to me. It was, in my most difficult years, a time to mark survival, to renew hope, and to rebuild a shattered faith.

Today, Ruthie and I took my brother Eric and took a trip down to Locust Grove (about an hour out of Atlanta), to spend the day with Adam and Kristi Fites. Adam and I used to follow metalcore bands up in Chicago during our days at Moody, and now he's a lay leader in the Presbyterian church while he studies to become a minister.

He led music at the church we attended this morning. It was a simple setup: Adam played acoustic guitar and sang, the pastor of the church played drums, and a very clean-cut guy in a button down shirt and tie played bass. We sang several hymns that were full of rich lines.

And now I will say what I want to say, which is that it's good to go back to the old songs and rituals of our faith. Not that we shouldn't be moving ahead, and not that the old guys did things much better, but there's something very moving about connecting yourself with the flow of the church through ages that ended before you were born. It's one way to remember that, while you do indeed need a personal encounter with the divine to be united with Christ, you're also part of something far, far greater than your own little walk of faith.

After church, we went over to Adam's place and lazed around as they labored to prepare for an easter gathering. Eric and I competed to find the laziest possible position one could sit in. I'd say it was a tie.

The evening yielded rich conversations with friends, as we sat on the back porch and ate all sorts of unusual dishes for Easter. Our Haitian friend Ed made some Snapper and Tilapia with rice and beans. It was a hit.

We ended the evening listening to my new Beirut CD and milling around the living room.

- Ian